Valentine Nicasus Maxence Mérovée Olivier de Foncé (
degenere) wrote in
therookery2016-07-07 01:17 pm
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FORM: sending crystal
SENDER: Val de Foncé (and with him, as always, is Jehan Mercier)
RECIPIENT: e v e r y o n e
WHAT: the scholars of Orlais have something to say.
WHEN: now, right now
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: aren't they charming.
Inquisition, we are confused.
[Melodious, Orlesian, flirtatious (somehow even in this most simple of sentences): these are three words one might use to describe the sound of Val's voice. It makes confused sound kind of fun, if a bit puzzling.]
My friend and I have come all this way to be an asset to you. And now we have arrived here, to your Skyhold, and we find so much to be in want. How have you all managed so far, with these conditions? I am a man used to the roughness of a camp, a life of travel. I love this life. You'll find no one loves it more than me. But a camp, that is one thing, and this? It is meant to be a city, of a sort. Yet there is no apartment for us. There is barely a work space, in your library--we have been, my friend and I. We have seen the conditions. There is barely a book there.
I am sorry for you, Inquisition.
[So sincere. A pause, in which he has pressed a hand to his chest, in a deep show of pity. And then, briskly, cheerfully:]
But we will not leave you there, in sorrow. The good news. You now have, among your numbers, me. An introduction: Valentine de Foncé, a master architect, among many other masteries, too numerous to name. If you ask sweetly, I'll tell you them all. If you ask very sweetly, I'll give demonstration. And for the Inquisition, I will offer my services, and my knowledge--and so, too, does my friend. If only so we can get a decent space in which we can do our work. And believe me: you want this. We have arrived to be your greatest blessing.
Now, tell me. With business sorted: what does anyone do for fun around here?
SENDER: Val de Foncé (and with him, as always, is Jehan Mercier)
RECIPIENT: e v e r y o n e
WHAT: the scholars of Orlais have something to say.
WHEN: now, right now
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: aren't they charming.
Inquisition, we are confused.
[Melodious, Orlesian, flirtatious (somehow even in this most simple of sentences): these are three words one might use to describe the sound of Val's voice. It makes confused sound kind of fun, if a bit puzzling.]
My friend and I have come all this way to be an asset to you. And now we have arrived here, to your Skyhold, and we find so much to be in want. How have you all managed so far, with these conditions? I am a man used to the roughness of a camp, a life of travel. I love this life. You'll find no one loves it more than me. But a camp, that is one thing, and this? It is meant to be a city, of a sort. Yet there is no apartment for us. There is barely a work space, in your library--we have been, my friend and I. We have seen the conditions. There is barely a book there.
I am sorry for you, Inquisition.
[So sincere. A pause, in which he has pressed a hand to his chest, in a deep show of pity. And then, briskly, cheerfully:]
But we will not leave you there, in sorrow. The good news. You now have, among your numbers, me. An introduction: Valentine de Foncé, a master architect, among many other masteries, too numerous to name. If you ask sweetly, I'll tell you them all. If you ask very sweetly, I'll give demonstration. And for the Inquisition, I will offer my services, and my knowledge--and so, too, does my friend. If only so we can get a decent space in which we can do our work. And believe me: you want this. We have arrived to be your greatest blessing.
Now, tell me. With business sorted: what does anyone do for fun around here?
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[Like, you know, Val himself, but perhaps that's why he is tired of it: because he gets his fill of boasting from himself.]
I find modesty much more becoming. And exciting. All the secrets that one gets to tease out of the modest!
My proposition is this: we share our drink. And then, tomorrow, we meet again.
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You've certainly won some secrets from me. I hope in time I might learn to pry secrets from you with the same level of skill. This, of course, means that I am more than willing to meet you tomorrow. We are after all friends, yes?
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[It's not boasting if it's true. Or, at least, it's not just boasting. All that being said, Val rests his elbow on the table and raises his mug, expectant of a toast. If she is even a little slow to respond, he will prompt her by raising his eyebrows. Well?]
We drink, this time, to friendship. May it be a very long and very happy one. Full of secrets shared.
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[Rather than be offended, she just grins at him. It takes less time than he might expect as she almost offered a toast herself. Her cup eagerly tinks against his.]
To secrets shared and good times.
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[He knocks his mug against her glass with great enthusiasm--enough to jar her a little, maybe slop some of her wine over her hand. Just a little. And it was completely not deliberate. Do not be fooled by the way that he is ready, immediately, to touch his fingertips against the hand in question, to wipe away the wine spots.]
My apologies.
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No need for apologies. It isn't like anything was damaged.
[Laughing softly, she arched an eyebrow at him.]
Shall we consider that an additional surprise?
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[He spares his thumb a casual glance, then licks it clean of wine smudges, almost as an afterthought, and sneaks another look at her--]
You will be very much surprised at what will follow all of this. I am a very good friend.
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So that was planned then? It seems a little coy of you-- unless that too is planned? [A grin once again creeps out.] You should know, I don't mind very good friends. I am just unused to being open about attraction after a life in the circle.
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[Oh, well. There are worse things. He leans back again, considering her now from this angle.]
I have been told that romance is discouraged in Circles. So that is true?
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It's true for the most part. Some are laxer than others. Many mages also saw it as one more thing the Templars could take away. Still, it wasn't uncommon for us to go sneaking off to some quiet corner or another for a tryst.
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[This answer pleases him, and he takes another sip of ale to reward himself for his wisdom.]
Another mage has told me of the chaste sadness of Circle life, and I knew that could not completely be the case. Just an exaggeration.
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Some Circles were more strict, and others had mages that were too scared to try. Ostwick was lax in some ways. We still weren't open about affection, however. At least no more than a mentor might to a student.
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But what luck, then, that you are here! Freedoms everyone. For instance--
[He waves a hand to encompass the room they are in.]
Not the loveliest of accommodations. But all the same: something to drink to, again.
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I doubt you'd be surprised that I am fond of this place already? [She chuckled lowly as she lifted up her cup.] I can drink to that and to the very good company I find myself in unfettered.
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And anyways, she's not mooning over things past, which displays an emotional fortitude and the constitution of someone Val can stand to be around. Which is why he clinks his mug against hers.]
The very same to you. Now, tell me-- [Oh, wait; he takes his drink and swallows, quickly, leans forward to ask this pressing question:] One thing I must know of mages firsthand is, do they each have a specialty? And if they truly do: what, then, is yours?
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We usually do. Even the Tranquil... Some are of study we prefer or some magic we perfect. I am most proficient at Storm magic which is lightning and energy barrages. Beyond that, I am studying to be a Knight-Enchanter.
[Although her cup was nearly empty, she took a long sip from it after toasting with him.]
But surely I cannot be all that interesting. I feel I've done you a disservice. Not asking about you and your life.
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I know all about me and my life. Why would I want to speak on it more? [Well. Because of vanity. To this end, he adds, very self-aware:] Now, I mean, at present. It is not every day that I am sat in a tavern with a lovely mage, who specializes in lightnings--a specialty of great destructive power and power--who is studying to be a Knight-Enchanter.
You must see how this would be a conversation I would prefer to details of all my accomplishments and daring and--
[Well. Actually. He tips his gaze upwards as he considers this.]
All right, I see why I would be interested in this conversation. And why you would. But there is time enough for it, in our long and storied friendship.
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Well if you want to keep talking about me and my magic, I will oblige. [So She did have a small ego and he was flattering it. She'd go to her grave before admitting that, though.] I just didn't wish to bore you or seem uninterested in you. I am interested, by the way, in learning more about you. But yes, I am keen on becoming a Knight-Enchanter, I have been training my mind and body for it as best I can.
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[And only some of it will be boasting, how about that. Val puts his chin in his hand with the clear air of a man settling in to listen.]
Mine are of course stories worth hearing, but for now: please, continue. How do you train to become a Knight-Enchanter? What must be done?
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There is physical training as well as mental. It's not just practicing some fancy magic, but a calling too. You are expected to serve out on the front lines. I'll admit I am still in the training part. I haven't even made myself the handle for a spirit blade yet.
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[--He repeats, with enthusiastic relish.]
That sounds terribly exciting. I have little enough experience with a blade without spirits, I will tell you. I prefer projectiles. A knife, if necessary. A thrown knife is more useful than a stabbing knife. So you see that a spirit blade would be doubly interesting to me. What is spirit about it? Does it have a form that can be carried, or must it be called upon before battle?
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A spirit blade is much like a regular blade, only it is weightless, and made of magic. Yet it can cut, bypassing armor and barriers alike. Some Knight-Enchanters, carry a special hilt instead of a staff. They can channel their magic into that. Others have mastered being able to summon a blade of pure magic without the hilt.
[Her enthusiasm died a bit as she looked down at the table.]
I've not even made the hilt yet. Every Knight-Knight enchanter makes one when they start training officially.
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[He qualifies, after a beat:]
At least, I presume there is talent. I do not know what constitutes 'talent', for a mage. But there are so many here with such gifts. Scholarly talent? Lacking. But many other gifts! As disagreeable and miserable and unfashionable and crass and crumbling a place as it might be--and it is all of those things, mademoiselle, truly, you must trust me on this--there is a reason for the Inquisition. Or so I have been told.
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